


Honesty is the Best Policy

by kissyn



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-13
Updated: 2012-10-13
Packaged: 2017-11-16 05:43:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/536125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissyn/pseuds/kissyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes he felt like a hostage in the war between Jared’s world and the real one.</p><p>In which Jared never once tried to hide how he felt about Jensen, and that changed everything. A sort of AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honesty is the Best Policy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the hc_bingo challenge, prompt _Stockholm syndrome_.

**Honesty is the Best Policy**

Jared was honest from the moment it began.

"Jensen," he said one day, eyes thoughtful, "I think I like you."

“I should hope so.” Jensen said.

Shaking his head, Jared took a bite of his sloppy catered sandwich before continuing with: "No, really. I like you. Really, really like you."

"Friends tend to feel that way, last time I checked. It's part of the contract. Which you signed in blood, if I may remind you."

"I still have the scar," agreed Jared, solemnly.

Jensen smirked sidelong at him, sharing the joke. 

"But it’s more," Jared insisted, as he pulled a bright red half of tomato from the bread and popped it between his lips, chewing, then continuing, "I mean in a more than best bros way. Been bothering me for a while, trying to figure it out. But I really think I may be _into_ you."

Jensen paused with a fork halfway to his mouth, blinked. Paused some more.

"Jensen? You there?" Jared waved a hand in front of his face.

"Yes. Um," said Jensen, ever articulate, and, "you like…men, now?"

"Not particularly," a shrug. "But I might like you."

"You're a queer one, Mr. Padalecki," Jensen declared, eyeing his calmly munching costar carefully, though a curious smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

Jared laughed so hard he choked on his lunch. 

*

"Hey! Hey, Jensen!"

Jensen looked up from unlocking his car at the sound of his name, tilted his head with interest as Jared pelted full speed across the parking lot towards him.

"Jensen. Jen," panted Jared, after crashing into the passenger side, "Jen.” He braced his arms on the hood, rested a moment, and Jensen realized that he still had scuffs of faux-dirt on his face. Idiot.

"Out with it, then," he sighed. 

"Just wanted to let you know that it's for certain now. I am definitely into you, I am." 

And, with a bright smile, he headed back to the trailers. Jensen stared after him, baffled.

*

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Jared," Wearily, Jensen rubbed his temples. "Stop. My answer is no."

Jared huddled a little closer, turned crinkled, pleading eyes at him. "But I want to."

"No."

"Just a little kiss, a tiny little peck? A teensy, weensy, smidgen of a kiss, I promise. I'm not asking for anything frenchy here, man. Just one simple kiss. Chaste as the new fallen snow. Promise!"

Frustrated, Jensen let his head fall limply to the back cushion of the couch and stared at the ceiling as if it could free him from this incredibly difficult situation. Sometimes he felt like a hostage in the war between Jared’s world and the real one. "Why do you even want to?" 

"Because I like you, you moron." 

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Come on! I'll leave you alone if you let me." Jared wheedled, a genuine whine creeping into his voice. "Please?"

"No, I will not let you kiss me! Watch the fucking movie, Jared." Jensen snapped, finally fed up, and focused hard on the action playing out on the TV, dead set on ignoring any more pleas until Jared got the fucking point; he was not interested.

"All right, all right," Jared said, sulkily withdrawing to the opposite end of the couch. "No need to yell."

*

With a disgusted, pained sound, Jensen finished pulling his costume standard button-down off, strained to get a look at the large bruise purpling his left shoulder blade. “This is getting ridiculous.”

Jared let out an impressed whistle as he plopped down behind Jensen for a closer look.

“How bad is it?”

“You’re going to feel it for a while, dude.” 

“Fucking Kripke.”

A laugh, “Your fault for twisting whenever you fall.”

“Shut up.”

“Here, let me just check…” Fingers fell lightly on the aching skin, brushed down and Jared trailed off.

Jensen twisted again, still trying to see the extent of his misery. “What?”

“I, well, wanted to see how close it was to actually breaking skin and,” fumbled Jared, glancing between Jensen’s face and the freckled, smooth skin of Jensen’s back; Jensen’s eyes narrowed suspiciously – so he shrugged, grinned, and pulled back. “Right, got distracted there,” he said. “Can’t help it, you know. The only way to keep me sane is to keep your shirt on from now on, agreed?”

*

"I love you, Jensen." Jared clutched him, desperation strong in fingertips wound into Jensen's shirt. "God, I do, I love you, and we can't go home until you understand that. I've loved you all along." 

"Jared. You can't..." 

Warm breathe on his neck. "I do. I'm in love with you."

"No, you’re not."

"I'm sorry. I can't help it. I tried to stop."

"Please, Jared, you can't –you can’t let me hurt you like this." Jensen closed his eyes tightly. This was wrong, this was too hard, it shouldn't have gone this far. A little fancy was one thing, a crush, but love was—different. It was too much. "Because I don't. I don't."

"Ah, Jensen. It doesn't hurt. It's beautiful. You'll see." Jared pulled back a little, brought a hand up to swipe at Jensen's frown-crinkled forehead, and smiled.

"You'll get over it. We'll be so far away from this, it’ll be different." 

"I doubt it."

*

Jensen swallowed and braced his nerves, tangling a hand in the hem of his shirt. "So, guess what?"

"What?" Jared's voice crackled.

"I'm dating someone. Her name is Dani. She's a model." It seemed cruel to say it, as much as he knew it shouldn’t. He couldn't hold back just because Jared had insisted on pining after him through another hiatus.

"Great! Is she pretty? Is she nice? Does she recycle? What kind of modeling does she do? When can I meet her?" 

The genuine enthusiasm in the questions surprised Jensen, and he paused a moment, twisting his fingers so hard in cloth that his circulation thrummed thin, before responding. "You're not mad?"

A few seconds passed before Jared answered through a hiss of static. "No."

"I thought you'd be angry or something."

"Jensen," Jared softly chided, "part of being in love with you is wanting you to be happy, even if it's not with me."

"Really?"

"Sure! Doesn't matter anyway, you'll come ‘round. I can wait," he joked, all softness gone. 

Jensen laughed, something easing up in his chest. "Dream on, Padalecki."

*

Jensen should have known better than to play a high school staple to pass an afternoon stuck in the trailers, waiting out the Canadian rain. But it was Misha’s insane idea, and Jensen had little choice once Jared had been enlisted to kidnap him from his solitary video gaming. 

Misha looked straight at Jensen and challenged, "I dare you to kiss Jared." Because everyone, _naturally_ , knew how Jared felt about Jensen and everyone, _of course_ , was conspiring to ‘help’ get them together. It really wasn’t fair, this concerted effort to change his mind, his feelings on the subject. Jensen wondered if someday it would come down to choosing between getting involved with Jared or...Or.

And just as Jensen was about to give in, because he had no real excuse to resist this time, with this silly game, and he was exhausted from evading their efforts, Jared shook his head, crossed arms, clearly declared, "No."

Later, when Jensen quietly questioned him about it in the kitchen, he merely looked him with his slanting, serious Sam-eyes and said, "When you finally kiss me, Jensen, I want it to be of your own free will."

*

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

The counter was a cold line in the small of Jensen’s back when he turned and leaned against it, hands slippery with soap and barely able to grip the edge. "Why?" He half-exclaimed, half-asked, confused as all hell, because this was all just so fucking odd, no matter how long it had been going on.

Jared moved a step closer. "Because I want you stupidly, stupid." 

Looking at Jared's wry, honest smile broke Jensen, finally, and he sighed, "Ok."

As promised, it was a chaste kiss, soft and quiet, barely a moment of touch, though Jared's hands lingered where they cradled his face. Jensen didn't understand how something so short and simple could leave Jared grinning so hard it seemed his jaw would crack off. 

"Haha!" Jared chortled, and spun in a happy, triumphant dance across the kitchen tiles. "Yes!"

Jensen laughed and went back to finishing the dishes, thinking: _That was easy._

*

Jared was always honest about wanting him, but because Jensen couldn't shake the belief that it was merely a phase, he shrugged it off and allowed Jared to have his quick kisses and swift, tight embraces, his hovering closeness and endearments. It was easier to give in and humor him than to keep fighting it, it made his life so much easier on and off set. So now when Jared leaned in, he sighed and pursed his lips. As long as it didn't go too far, he could cope. It became a regular part of their friendship. It wasn't serious.

At least, not until the week they filmed away from the others, living alone in a house too large for their companionship, and the night Jared crawled into his bed at two o’fucking clock in the morning.

Jensen rolled over, groggy. "What are you doing?"

"It's lonely. I can't sleep all the way over there." 

"It's across the hall."

"If I screamed, you wouldn't be able to hear me. I could be ripped apart by werewolves and you'd never know. And you'd feel guilty for the rest of your life at the loss of all my brilliant potential. And the show would never recover."

"It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make." Jensen grunted and turned back over, closing his eyes.

Jared snuggled around the curve of his back. "No, it's not." 

The blanket fell away as Jensen sat up, wide awake suddenly and a little spooked. "Jared. Go back to bed."

"Hey, hey, I'm sorry, Jen." Jared swallowed a little, obviously realizing he'd gone too far, and quickly removed himself from the bed. He stood awkwardly and shifted in his rumpled boxers. "Hey, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I just kind of...forget sometimes, that...that you're not..."

"What?"

"Into me. The way I'm into you. Because it just seems that...I don't know. Forget it." He backed up another step, reached behind him for the doorknob, eyes down and shadowed in the darkness.

"Jared, am I leading you on somehow?" Worried, Jensen chewed his lip, picked at the fabric of his comforter.

Jared's head shot up, already shaking a denial. "No! No, I know you don't like me like that back. I guess sometimes I'm wishing so hard I loose track of that, you know?"

"You wish I…?" And as obvious as the answer seemed, he still had to ask, because it wasn't real yet, it wasn't real until Jared wanted to be wanted back, which, peculiarly enough, he’d never actually come out and clarified.

"Well, yeah," said Jared, with a single glint of light caught in his eyes, gleaming almost dangerously through the darkness, promising something fierce and sexual as he went on: "If I thought you felt the same, I would be on you in a second."

"Oh." 

Jensen didn't sleep much that night, even after Jared hustled back to his own, lonely bed. And when Jared wrapped his arms around Jensen's waist from behind the next morning, watching over his shoulder as he stirred his cereal, Jensen didn't shrug him off, only said, "You know, I’m really not into you like that. Really. I just—don't. I don't want to hurt you, man, but that's how it is. You know that, right?"

"I'm a patient man, I am." Jared sing-songed enigmatically, then kissed him on the cheek, and Jensen felt him smile against his skin.

*

Dani tilted her head to this side, eyes wondering. “Did you and Jared ever…?” She asked, and a curiously sad little frown decorated her painted mouth.

“No!” Jensen said. “No, never. Why would you think that?” But he knew why she would think that, he knew, and the denial, honest though it was, felt like a lie. 

“Sometimes it seems that there’s more than friendship between you two.” She shrugged.

“There isn’t.”

Jensen knew he was betraying someone here. Who, he couldn’t tell. Whose side was he even on anymore?

*

Once again, Jared slithered into his bed at an hour so early it bordered on late, though this time the movement didn't wake Jensen—he was already there. 

A broad hand touched between his shoulder blades, slid up over his bicep and down along his arm, his wrist, slipped under and curled all the way around his waist. There was a brief moment of hesitation, as if Jared was waiting for him to jerk away again, before heavy warmth settled against his back and rolled up snug along his legs. Bare toes teased the folds of sock at the backs of his ankles and tiny gusts of breath dampened his nape.

"I'm sorry, Jen." Jared hushed, with a nose nuzzled into the short hair at the back of his head.

"It's your fault. She thought, she said you and I..." words hitched in the darkness.

"I know."

Jensen was half-asleep, then, safely held, and Jared's whispered "I love you" seemed more like the language of some dream than reality all around him.

*

"Eeeeeyaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" was all that warned Jensen before he was tackled headfirst into the pool by a large, muscled force.

He fought his way back up through the chill water, gasping when he reached the surface, and plucked at his ruined suit in dismay. 

"Oh, man!" Misha cackled. "That was great! Gold star!"

Genevieve, bent over with laughter, was only able to nod in agreement.

Jensen glared at them, miserably treading water.

"Ah!" Jared exploded to the surface with a grin already plastered to his dripping face, which he turned full-watt on Jensen as he settled into a steady back float. "Refreshing." 

"You're going to pay, Padalecki," snapped Jensen. "This was expensive."

"Chin up, old boy, and smile for the cameras!" Jared quipped.

A crowd began to form around the edges of the pool, curious as to why two grown men, dressed in full formal wear, had decided to go for a swim in the middle of a dinner party, and indeed, cameras did flash. Jensen felt his cheeks go bright red.

"God, but you make me so happy,” Jared whispered as he hauled him up out of the pool a little later, using the opportunity to pull him close for a moment as well.

Jensen shivered, mixed up with warmth and cold.

*

"Can I kiss you, Jensen?" 

Curious, Jensen looked up from his laptop to where Jared was shifting in his characteristically large way at the threshold to the porch. "You know you don't need permission, Jared."

"I mean" Jared swallowed, and played with his bracelet nervously, "kiss you, kiss you.” 

Jensen looked at him for a long moment, then back at his laptop. Thought about it. Listened to Jared breathe a little out of rhythm, bit his lower lip, and finally, nodded, moving the computer to the wooden boards of the porch. "Ok," he said.

"Really?" Jared stared at him.

He crossed his arms. "Your window of opportunity is closing quickly."

"Right." It was a sigh more than a real word, exhaled as Jared moved forward, leaned down and—

Familiar hands cupped Jensen’s head, thumbs brushing along the sides of his jaw, but all he could focus on were the lips nudging his. The claustrophobic damp air of breath, and sheer presence of—the not-so-unusual closeness of this other body, Jared, with his small, soft kisses repeated over and over until Jensen nudged back, aching for more pressure. Slowly, as a breeze curled around them like a contented cat, sweetness became desire, warmth built into heat, breaths quickened, and Jensen was letting his mouth open, letting Jared tip his head into a better position for his tongue to lick inside. 

His khaki shorts rode up as he was bent back, and cotton brushed his knees, the fabric of Jared's loose trousers. One guiding hand went to his nape, tilted his head further up. The other trailed fingertips down his neck to wrap around his bicep, support against gravity. Still, he had to catch at Jared's shoulder to keep from falling backwards too quickly, dizzily.

"Oh," He gasped wetly, when Jared pressed him down into the lawn chair and got a knee up between Jensen’s thighs, but anything he intended to say was lost in a hot slick of tongue. 

A moan rumbled over his lips like a miniature earthquake, spilling from Jared's mouth, and Jensen shuddered, felt his knees pull up until they met Jared's hips. The rough texture of the patio recliner scraped his bare feet, his lower back where his shirt had rumpled up to reveal skin, his elbows too so he lifted them and fisted his hands in Jared's hair, brought him down hard. Another moan.

Jared's well-known smell filled his senses, Jared's body filled his hands, Jared's tongue filled his mouth, Jared filled his entire world – it only took a few more moments for Jensen to realize how _wrong_ it all was and open his eyes

"Jared," he turned out of the kiss, unwound his hands and let them drop, "I can't."

Lips traveled across his check. Jared sucked on his earlobe once before begging harshly, "Please. Try."

"I am," he nearly snarled, felt the desperation rise in his chest. "I am trying, but it's too much. Please get off of me." He wouldn’t let himself be pressured into this.

"Jensen—" 

"Get _off_ , Jared. I don't—"

Achingly, Jared unfurled his body, moved to stand, but kept his face down even as his shoulders heaved with frustrated inhalations. Jensen sat up, watching him, watched the sunlight prickle over his skin.

"Yet." 

The word was a promise, clear in Jared's eyes as their gazes met. "You don't yet."

*

Genevieve pulled away, eyes wide and bright, lips red, and it was through a screen of her smoky burning incense that Jensen saw Jared blink open his eyes.

"Oh. Sorry," he said, dumbly, numbed out by the scent of clove, and ducked back inside before either could respond. 

Heart throbbing strangely, he sat back down on the couch, nursed the beer he'd very luckily not dropped a moment ago. Some movie he'd already forgotten the title of played on – he'd lost interest in it the moment he realized Jared and Gen had been gone for over ten minutes. 

Not that it mattered now.

He was jealous, he could admit it, and he wondered why he suddenly felt like he'd lost something when he'd never wanted it in the first place.

Hands, huge like always, settled on his shoulders, he could see the flexing skin out of the corners of his eyes, but didn't turn, even when Jared said. "You have no right. It's not fair."

"No," he agreed.

"I’m sorry anyway. I just wanted to see what it would be like to be…” Jared didn’t finish that. It would be too hurtful to say out loud, though Jensen winced regardless, because he realized what was unspoken there. “I hate the taste of lipstick anyway."

“You like girls.”

“Yeah, well.”

*

"Ah, Jensen," Jared smiled up at him, gleaming and dark in the fluttering winter light. 

Jensen rubbed their noses together softly, saying, "Eskimo kiss."

"You kissed me!" exclaimed Jared, and yanked Jensen into a laughing, ecstatic hug.

"What? So? We've kissed before." Oh, and had they.

"No, no! This is different. You. Kissed. Me!"

Jensen understood the difference.

*

"So, what if I do wa—love you?" Jensen challenged, and brandished his stained and dripping carving knife defensively. "How do things change?"

Jared touched his own pumpkin-bloodied knife to the one waving in his face, forcing it down in one of the few moves he remembered from their stunt training. "Silly Jensen," he gently scolded, and leaned forward to bump their foreheads together. "They don't. That's the point."

* 

"Can I kiss you?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No!"

"Why not?"

"Payback is a bitch, love."

Jensen smiled and twined his fingers into Jared's hair, went up on his toes to make up for the height difference, girly as that was, and whispered, "Please?" into Jared's over-sized ear. “Please?”

*

"The hope must be the worst part."

The phone hissed, angry at the distance, at the miles and miles of space between.

"The hope is the best part. At least, it's certainly the newest." Jared replied.

*

"So?" Jared smirked at him, elbow denting the bed.

Stretching, naked, Jensen teased, "So what?"

"So, so?"

"So so is exactly the phrase I was thinking."

A pillow slammed down onto his face, emphasized by Jared's muted insult, "Jerk off." 

"No need." shoving the cotton and feather away, Jensen leaned up and nuzzled the shadow on Jared's unshaven cheeks. He was surprised that he liked the way it scraped his nose, how this feeling of being caught, captive forever, agreed with him.

Jared twisted closer, breathed in hard against Jensen's neck, mumbled. "Just answer the question, fuckwit."

"Well, I have to be honest and…” 

“Yes?”

Jensen drew out the silence, teasing, before it came out at last, easy on his smiling lips. “I love you. I’m yours."

END


End file.
